Given that I couldn't find an appropriate place to insert the ages of the characters involved, let me assure you here that all are eighteen or older.
*
"Wash up, lazybones, and take those furs to Sir Charles," the tanner ordered. The day's chill turned his breath to a liquor-laden mist.
"Sir Charles, Father?" Tanners asked, confused.
The tanner rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Oh ye gods, why curse me with such a stupid boy?" He turned to the young man. "The banker, the one whose son you don't like. He's offered three gold for the lot."
Tanners scowled. "Everyone follows him like sheep. He calls me names that I don't understand. He never has a kind word for me."
"The boy? No reason why he should," his father riposted with a belch, "but it's neither the master you'll be seeing nor his sly serpent of a son. Speak to the steward so you don't offend the household, and don't come back without my coin. Do you think your thick head can handle it?"
"Yes, Father."
"Good. Be on your best behavior. Should you encounter Charles the Younger, stay clear of his path."
****
Tanners shivered on the cart and clicked his tongue at the donkey. Would it snow this year, he wondered? The last time the town had seen snow Tanners had been barely old enough to remember it. He hoped that Keilan was somewhere warm and safe.
Why does the banker live so far from the town?
Tanners wondered as the donkey brayed its dissatisfaction with the long stretch of road. "Easy, Donkey," he said soothingly. Tanners could understand the animal's frustration. Cold, none other of its kind to talk to, the donkey was probably just as confused that a wealthy man would buy a wood and put his house in the middle of it.
The wind rustled the dead leaves and nipped at the young man's ears. Tanners felt strangely discontent; a little morose without understanding the reason. He had visited Melody and the baby last night, Father had been too drunk to cuff him all day, and he'd had a bath already. Why was he so restless? Perhaps he had gone to long without his brute. Since Keilan's departure there had been nothing to stand between Tanners' beast and its growing dominance.
After ages the donkey hawed onto a packed dirt road that ended at a gate. Scents from a smokehouse wafted over the crisp winter breeze, and fowl squawked comically in the courtyard. The complex was huge. There were fields beyond the stone house and courtyard, horses grazing in a pasture, and what looked to be an orchard.
Tanners stopped his cart near the stables and wrapped the reins around a hitching post. "Bye, Donkey. I won't be long." He patted the animal's sturdy neck and approached the nearest servant. "Excuse me, but where might I find the steward?"
The stable boy made a sign against evil. "He'll be in the main house," he answered, taking care to stand on the young man's right side. "Be sure you say the names of three gods before you step foot across the threshold. The master will tolerate no devilry."
"Aye," Tanners replied. His demon met holy names with indifference, but the young man knew it was better to be safe than sorry. He knocked on the servant's door and waited for a maid to open it before covering his blue eye and reciting the gods. She showed him to the main hall.
"Wait there," she ordered.
Tanners sat on the hard stone bench she had indicated. He wished that he could sit on the furs and keep his buttocks warm, but settled for draping the bundle over his lap.
I hope the steward arrives soon,
Tanners thought. The opulent tapestries and soft brush of slippered feet on wood made him uncomfortable. He didn't belong in this world.
"What," a man hissed, "is that thing doing in my home?"
Tanners whipped his head up to see Sir Charles glowering at him from the entryway. The man with all the keys standing to the banker's side—was he the steward?—wrung his hands. Swiftly Tanners stood and bowed.
The banker addressed his steward. "Again, what is that thing doing here?"
Taking care not to cast his cursed gaze on the master of the house, Tanners spoke up. "I've delivered the furs, your lordship. For your son's birthday."
The man made a noise of disgust. "Someone translate the beast's words."
Tanners scowled fiercely at the floor and clenched his hands while his restive demon gnashed its teeth.
"The gifts," the steward explained, "for the young master's wedding." He snapped at a maid, who accepted the heavy bundle from the tanner's boy with an unsubtle sign against evil.
Sir Charles waved a dismissive hand. "Give him one gold and five silver, and see him away from this place immediately," he said, then turned to bark at the young maid. "See those to the priest before he leaves. I won't have tainted goods in my home."
Choke him
, the demon urged.
The steward is a weakling and the girl will only scream. Leap upon the banker's corpulent body and end his life.
Tanners shoved the beast down in its cage. Father had warned him to be on his best behavior. Though he was unlearned in the ways of society and etiquette, Tanners was positive that killing a man over an insult would involve disobeying Father's orders.
So busy was he arguing with the devil that Tanners didn't notice the weak steward propelling him out of the door. Only the slam behind him brought him from his reverie. Tanners stared into his hand. "Don't come home without my coin," Fathers had said. One gold. Five silver. That was less than half of the agreed sum. A chill pricked Tanners' spine and raised gooseflesh. Father would be furious, but couldn't return to the banker with demands for money. He would have no choice but to beat Tanners bloody for it.
Lie to him
, suggested the devil. Tanners shook his head. How would a lie change five silver to two gold?
Refuse to leave until you've received the full amount.
No, the banker had used Tanners' demonic possession to cheat the youth's father. Should Tanners stay he could be arrested and all his coin confiscated.
Run to the goatherd.
Ah, that was it. Consulting Melody was the first help that Tanners' devil had offered all day. He could avoid his father, see his friend, and...Where was Donkey?
The cart stood where he had left it, but the animal was nowhere in sight. Panic seized his heart. Not only had he offended the household and botched the furs transaction, but somehow he had misplaced the tannery's only transport. Had the donkey somehow gotten loose and returned home? He hurried to the gate to look out at the road, then to the stables. There were so many horses in sight, but none had the petite stature and long ears of his beloved creature. The child to whom Tanners had spoken earlier was filling troughs. Tanners ran up to him.
"Where's Donkey?" he asked the stable boy. The child pointed to a stall at the end of the building, but before he could open his mouth a most odious voice filled Tanners' ears.
"Ah, tanner's whelp."
Tanners whirled around at the sound of the familiar tenor. Charles the Younger was leading two other young men through the stable, looking pleased with himself.
"You smell less of urine today. Got fancied up to come see us?"
Tanners frowned. His devil did not like Charles the Younger; it sensed a swift and venomous viper in him. The demon stretched and unsheathed its claws at the youth's approach.
It must have been the devil that pulled the banker's boy here,
Tanners realized sourly. The beast had always been unsatisfied with Tanners' lot in life, and felt need to remind him of status' epitome—flaxen hair nearly white in the afternoon sun, pale and smooth skin, a nose that had never been broken, fine clothing cut close to highlight a lithe figure unused to heavy labor. The demon wanted to break him and Tanners both.
Stay clear
. His father's words rang in his ears.
